For Everyday We Wake
by sodoesrachael
Summary: He was about to prove himself, to prove if some upstart 23 year old genius could really make it in the BAU...


_"Happiness is the only sanction in life; where happiness fails, existence remains a mad and lamentable experiment."_

-George Santayana

* * *

"Hey, you would not believe the dream I had last night, man. It was crazy…"

As Spencer Reid sat down at his new desk, he listened to his new co-worker, SSA Derek Morgan, telling another agent in the "bullpen" about a dream he had last night. Spencer bit his lip to keep from spouting off some random fact about dreams, since most people seemed to get annoyed by it…

Derek Morgan looked like every guy who had ever hated Spencer: he looked like a jock. Tall, but not as tall as Spencer, and bulky in the right places, with muscle. Spencer bit his lip again, wondering how in the world they would ever get along and work together…

"Morgan!" a voice broke through his thoughts, and Agent Morgan's voice stopped as they both looked up at SSA Aaron Hotchner, Spencer's new boss, along with Agent Gideon, who was on medical leave.

"Morgan, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. He's our new agent."

Derek Morgan finally seemed to notice him, and gave him a brief look over, raising his brows at Agent Hotchner. Spencer ducked his head, knowing what Agent Morgan must be thinking… Even though he was 23, he looked like he was about 18 at best. Still, he knew that being in the BAU at 23 was unheard of, and he also knew that Agent Gideon had pulled some serious strings to get him in without the prerequisite time served. He had three doctorates, though, so it wasn't like he wasn't qualified for the job, at least intellectually.

He sighed to himself, knowing that he was going to be the outcast yet again. He'd already been glared at by some agents on his way up here; older, more experienced agents than himself who were in positions beneath his own. He knew they resented him, but then most people did. He was used to it, and wore the part of the outcast quite well after a lifetime of being cast in that role.

"So, kid, I hear you're some kind of genius, right?" Spencer started, snapped out of his thoughts, and looked up to see Agent Morgan leaning over the partition that separated his desk from the empty one across from him.

"I, um-" he wanted to go into his usual spiel about not believing that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but remembered that he wanted to go as long as possible without annoying his coworkers. "Yes," he answered instead. "I guess I am."

"Yeah, you have, what, two PhDs already, right?" Agent Morgan said, smiling at him.

Spencer perked up. That wasn't a bad sign, right? "Um, three actually. And a few other degrees."

Agent Morgan whistled softly, and Spencer couldn't help a small smile. "That is impressive, my man. I barely made it through one degree; I can't imagine getting any more of them."

Spencer's smile grew, but before he could answer his coworker, they were interrupted by Agent Hotchner. "Morgan, Reid. Come on, we've got a case."

Agent Morgan stood, and slapped Spencer on the back as he passed him. "Come on, kid, time to prove yourself."

Reid frowned, but shook himself. He _was_ about to prove himself; to prove if some upstart 23 year old genius could actually make it in the BAU. _'Here goes nothing_,' he thought as he followed Agent Morgan up the stairs and into the rest of his life.

* * *

Reid's first case had gone a lot better than he'd dreaded it might. A couple of the locals had made comments about his age, but a few big words strung together and they were quiet. It was a technique that Reid had mastered at a very young age: most adults were so put off by his extensive vocabulary, most of which they couldn't even begin to understand, that they would leave him alone rather than be embarrassed by a scrawny kid.

He was glad to know that even in law enforcement, it was effective.

As he let himself into his still new apartment, Reid tried to decide what he wanted to do for the rest of the night. He'd never been good with free time; it was just another area he was awkward in. Besides, his mind was still stuck on that case…

Before he'd been accepted into the BAU, he and Agent Gideon had talked at length about the job and what it entailed. One thing Agent Gideon had told him repeatedly was that he would see terrible things. The very worst of humanity. And dead bodies. And Reid had attempted at length to prepare himself, especially for the dead bodies part. But although he'd tried to play it cool at the crime scene, he'd been so thrown by seeing the dead body of Darcy Corbit. And then her father showed up… That was terrible. Who wanted to remember seeing the body of their dead daughter? Reid didn't want to remember it, and Darcy Corbit was a complete stranger to him.

Reid hadn't the slightest idea what to say to the man. What do you say in that kind of a situation? But he'd volunteered to talk to the man simply to get away from the body. The lifeless corpse. The murdered girl…

Another thing Agent Gideon had told him was their motto: "Save one life, we save the world." But who had they saved on this case? Three girls (or more, they still didn't know if it was only three) were dead, and the suspect was in a coma. Who did they save? Who was getting justice? No one.

Sighing, Reid sat down on his couch and ran his hands over his face. What was he getting himself into, here? Could he really deal with dead bodies, cold blooded murderers, and weeping relatives and friends nearly every day? Couldn't he have just gone on as he had been: a student living off his grants and expanding his mind?

But no. He had accepted Agent Gideon's offer for a reason. He wanted to help people, to make a difference in the world. He'd been useless all his life up until now. He had this expansive knowledge, but he wasn't doing anything with it. He'd already failed his mother; he wasn't going to fail people depending on him now: all the innocent victims out there, waiting to be saved. And for once, it would be Spencer Reid doing the saving.

* * *

Almost a year later, and things were still going pretty well for Dr. Spencer Reid. He'd gotten better at dealing with the unsavory aspects of being in the BAU, and his coworkers Morgan and Hotch really seemed to respect him, something that Reid was still trying to wrap his head around. He'd been respected instead of resented a few times before, usually by his professors, but there was always some underlying resentment there, no matter how hard they tried to hide it.

But Reid didn't pick up any negative vibes from Hotch or Morgan, which he considered to be pretty amazing. Of course, he'd turned out to be great at this job, which probably helped a lot. But Hotch and Morgan were great, too, and they all made a great team.

With this job, Reid felt powerful in a way he'd never felt before. He wasn't as helpless anymore. Morgan had been helping him with hand-to-hand training, and Hotch helped him at the shooting range. That was another thing he was still getting used to: he carried a gun. A real, loaded gun. To be honest, he didn't really like having the gun, but he knew that it was necessary for protection. If he could help it, he'd never use, though. At least he hoped he didn't have to.

And now, the team was headed to Seattle, and it was Gideon's first case back in the field. First, he'd been on medical leave, and when he came back, he'd consulted on their cases, but never went with them. He also started teaching more classes at the Academy. Sometimes he would ask Reid to sit in on them, and to help him with various things, since Reid was about their age and they might connect with him better. At least according to Gideon. Reid had always been the most unsettled with kids his own age, though, since he had always been light years ahead of them intellectually. As a child, while most kids his age were outside running around and yelling and screaming, he'd been inside, reading Proust and grading his mother's papers for her 15th Century Literature class.

"Reid, what do you think?"

He looked up, blinking at Hotch, who simply gave him a "look," to which he just shrugged and opened his case file. "Well," he said, thinking out loud, "this first victim was 26 year old Melissa Kirsch. Stab wounds, strangulation-"

"Wait wait, back up, back up." Morgan cut in. "He stabbed her, and _then_ strangled her to finish her off?"

"Other way around," Gideon answered, and then they were off, doing what they did best: profiling another of the sickest members of society.

* * *

This was a case they would consider a 'win.' They had saved Heather Woodland, and both parties of the killing team responsible for three murders and Heather's kidnapping were in custody. Gideon had gotten shot, but it had only grazed his arm, so there was no serious harm done to the team.

More than that, Gideon had proved that he was fit to be a full member of the team again, something Reid was happy about. While he had great working relationships with Hotch and Morgan, there was something different about Gideon. Reid knew enough about the man to know that he wasn't on good terms with his own son, and had probably subconsciously cast Reid into that role. And Reid, lacking a father himself, didn't mind all that much.

As a profiler, he knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to have that kind of relationship with your superior. He knew that it wasn't healthy. But the part of him that still wondered why his father had left; the part that longed for someone he could just talk to who wouldn't judge him, the part that wanted a _parent_, that part of him embraced the paternal aspects of how Gideon felt for him.

As for Morgan, Reid also felt that he was a bit more than just a coworker: he was a friend. He would often go out of his way to make sure that Reid felt included, asking him if he wanted to join him for drinks or dinner often. Most days, Reid would decline, and he knew that Morgan knew what his answer would be, but it felt nice to be asked.

"Hey kid, you done with those files yet?"

_Well, speak of the devil…_ "No, Morgan, I'm not doing any of yours. Do your own files."

"Pretty boy, you wound me. When would I ever ask you to do my work?"

"Uh, yesterday, and the day before, and-"

"I get it kid. But no, that's not what I was gonna ask you. For once, I am done with my own files."

The easy camaraderie between them was another thing Reid really liked about Morgan. Never having had any real friends before, he hadn't known what he was missing out on. But he and Morgan could have a lot of fun just sitting here at their desks goofing off and messing with each other. Morgan could be kind of a slacker, and would do anything to get out of having to do actual work. While Reid didn't generally condone that, he always appreciated a willing audience for his physics magic, and Morgan seemed to enjoy it. So did Garcia, their technical analyst, and she was always coming down to the bullpen to try to entice him to do some for her. He often caved for her, because she made the best cookies he'd ever had, though he didn't generally condone bribery either…

"Hey, Earth to pretty boy!" Morgan snapped his fingers in front of Reid's face, and he jumped in surprise.

"Oh, sorry. What?"

"I asked if you wanted to go grab something to eat before heading home. Hungry?"

"Maybe next time?" Reid had been spacing out a lot today, and didn't know if he wanted to go to a restaurant and have to pay attention to a conversation…

"Sure kid. Next time." Morgan grabbed his coat and put it on, ruffling Reid's hair on his way out. "Since your mom's all the way in Vegas, kid, I'm gonna tell you: get a hair cut."

"Hey, my hair is just fine. At least I have hair." Morgan just waved and continued out the door.

"Wait, Morgan!" he yelled, shoving his papers in his bag. They hadn't gone out after work in a while, and he was kind of hungry. "I'm coming!"

Attempting to shove his arms into his coat, carry his bag, and run at the same time, he almost ran into Hotch on his way out. "Oh, sorry Hotch."

"Did you win the race, Reid?" Hotch asked him, giving him one of his 'looks' and holding the door open for him.

"No, I'm just trying to catch Morgan. We're going to go get something to get something to eat."

"Oh. Well, enjoy yourselves. See you in the morning."

"Yeah, you too, Hotch."

As he caught up to Morgan, who had heard him yelling and was waiting, amused, by the elevator, Reid thought that his life was finally starting to fit into place. He had a great job, he had friends, he had a father-figure in his life, and things were going great. Two years ago, Spencer would never have thought that he could be this happy all the time.

The elevator pinged and opened up, and Morgan pushed him in, laughing. And Reid laughed too, because there were so many things to laugh about now.

* * *

_Yet was there joy more a thousand fold_

_Than man can tell; never would it be night,_

_But always clear day, to any man's sight."_

_-_Geoffrey Chaucer_, The Parliament of Fowls_


End file.
